


A Quiet Place

by AvengersCompound (emilyevanston)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Getting to Know Each Other, Happy Steve Bingo, Libraries, Meet-Cute, Reader-Insert, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:01:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21558220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilyevanston/pseuds/AvengersCompound
Summary: When Steve goes into the local library to wait for Clint, he discovers a place where he can escape being Cap, and a person who he can connect with as Steve.Square filled:@happystevebingo - Libraries
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 15
Kudos: 89
Collections: Happy Steve Bingo 2019





	A Quiet Place

It had been a long time since Steve Rogers had been in a library. He’d ventured into the New York York Public library in the city once, right when he’d come off the ice. But that was mostly a clinging to nostalgia. It had been there when he’d gone under and he had sought out places that he recognized. Part of it was just looking at the art and architecture. It was nice, but he didn’t actually browse the shelves or sit and read by one of the windows. He’d visited an exhibition and then gone home feeling a little empty because of how much things had changed.

The truth was that Steve didn’t really need the library. At least not the way most people might use it. He had his own office to do his paperwork in or read the paper, so he didn’t need the quiet space. Stark’s network was the fastest in the world so research was better done at the compound. He didn’t even really need the books. He had a Stark Tech E-Reader and if he wanted to read a book, it was at the touch of his fingers. Not that he actually had any time to read for fun. So it just never factored in as something to do.

The first time he entered the tiny little library that sat on the main road of the little village near the compound, it was just a way to escape the rain while he waited for Clint to take his dog to the vet. It had been built into an old chappel and had high, exposed timber ceilings and tall stained-glass windows.

The smell of the books had been the thing that had hit him first. There was something about that smell. He’d spent a lot of time in libraries as a kid due to his mother’s overprotectiveness. A lot of school fitness classes were sent studying there. He’d expected the smell to trigger some kind of resentment. Instead, it was a whimsy. A longing for something he’d actually never had. A longing for that time where it was just you and a good book and there was nothing to worry about at all.

He’d picked up a book from the recommended section - Mr. Dickens and His Carol - and took a seat at a table by one of the windows. The colored glass diffused the light, making it seem softer and a little more ethereal.

When he’d taken the seat he’d noticed you sitting at the far end of the table typing on a laptop. You’d looked up and smiled at him and he’d given you a polite nod.

When Clint had texted him to ask where he was he was a quarter of the way into the book and so rather than buy it, he’d joined the library and borrowed it.

Thus started a little routine. Accidental at first - he’d had to return the book once it was done and while he was there he might as well take the time to enjoy a little peace and quiet. Once a week he’d return a book, borrow a new one and just sit by the window and read for an hour.

It was his ‘me’ time. Something he never took. A chance to not really be anyone except an onlooker on someone else’s adventure. It was time he knew he wouldn’t be bothered by anyone. Hill wouldn’t come in with a mountain of papers to fill out. Natasha wouldn’t come in and tell him about the intel she’d picked up. Sam wouldn’t ask him to run circuits with him. Tony wouldn’t bring in new uniform designs that were apparently designed specifically to show off his ass. He could just sit and be.

Each time he came in you were already there. Always sitting at the end of the table. Always typing.

It was three visits before either of you spoke to each other. Just a simple hello between strangers that regularly occupied the same space. Another two before you were exchanging small talk about the day and what you were reading. Five visits and you knew each other’s names. Although, you had sheepishly admitted to knowing who he was. Not that he was surprised really. It was rare that wasn’t the case, but he did appreciate the fact that you let him have his anonymity.

Two more trips in and you were both learning about each other. You told him where you were from and about your family. He learned that you liked to come into the library to get some writing done away from the noise of your home. He told you about his friends and how he liked coming in to get a break from the noise of the compound.

The tenth week he had taken a copy of ‘The Last Child of Tokyo’ from the display with award-winning books and sat down from you reading while you typed. He closed the book and looked out the window for a moment, appreciating the way the colors refracted the light. When he looked back to you, you were smiling at him.

“You heading home?” You asked.

Steve shook his head. “Thought I might get some lunch across the road.” He said. “Would you like to join me?”

You closed up your computer and started to pack it away. “I think I’d like that a lot.”


End file.
